


Quietude

by louciferish



Series: YOI tumblr shorts [14]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:07:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22973782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louciferish/pseuds/louciferish
Summary: During a brief separation, Victor notices the empty space Yuuri's absence creates in their home.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: YOI tumblr shorts [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1116207
Comments: 37
Kudos: 180





	Quietude

**Author's Note:**

> Recently, my spouse went on a trip without me, and I was surprised by how different our apartment felt without him in it.
> 
> A few days later, I had to travel myself. I wrote this in one hotel and one airport.

Victor had never noticed before, how noisy Yuuri could be.

(With certain, very memorable exceptions.)

Now, with the apartment to himself, the silence is profound. It feels _wrong_ , somehow, how quiet it is. The tap of Makka’s claws on the hardwood floors brings little comfort, seeming insignificant in the face of otherwise overwhelming stillness. 

Victor itches to fill the room with sound. 

There had been a delay with Victor’s visa for Skate America--a minor issue, but enough of a setback that his flight had to be changed. One practice day was all he’d miss. It hadn’t seemed so important at the time. 

_”Celestino will be there, and Yakov, and Phichit,” Yuuri reminded him, standing on the curb outside the airport terminal. “I’ll be fine. It’s only a day.”_

_Still, he’d buried his nose in the collar of Victor’s coat, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as they held on to one another. And, when Victor had tried to step back, he found that he was the one who couldn’t let go._

With Yuuri safely on his flight, Victor had returned home for a night spent alone, only to collide head first with the silence. 

He flops on the sofa, at loose ends. He can’t place why the lack of Yuuri is so audibly profound. It’s not as if Yuuri is a _loud_ person. Neither of them watches much TV, and they prefer headphones when listening to music. Even when Yuuri plays video games, he uses a headset, drowning out everything but the occasional grunt, gasp, or florid Japanese curse. 

Yet Victor misses the very sound of his breathing. 

Makka hops onto the couch, draping herself across his legs and stomach. He buries his hands in her curls and frowns at the television. He’s tempted to put it on, just to create _some_ noise, but he knows there’s nothing on he’d like to watch. He could play music, but he’s not in the mood--music needs energy, and without Yuuri in the house, Victor has none.

He meets Makka’s big doe eyes where her chin rests on his chest and implores her, “Why am I so ridiculous?”

She doesn’t have an answer, aside from some soft panting that briefly disperses the silence, and the thump of her tail against his leg. It’s a good thing she can’t talk, really. She knows better than anyone else how foolish Victor truly is. After all, she saw him in both the months following Sochi and the weeks after Barcelona, before Yuuri moved in.

It wasn’t a pretty sight.

That’s part of why today is particularly bad. He and Yuuri won’t be separated for weeks or months. Victor isn’t missing an important competition day while fretting over his dog’s safety. And, they haven’t even lived together all that long. In the grand scheme of things, Yuuri’s presence in St. Petersburg is still fresh and new. How could Victor have adapted so quickly to his little habits?

“I’m a fool,” he tells Makka. She tilts her head, raising her ears in agreement. 

His phone, trapped between his thigh and the couch cushion, begins to vibrate, and Victor arches his hips to reach it. Makka, stubborn, refuses to budge, still clinging to him despite his attempts to escape. 

“Wonder where you got that from,” he mutters, mirthless, but the sight of his phone screen brings a smile to his face in an instant. 

He accepts the call, then hits speaker, “Moshi moshi.”

Across thousands of kilometers and several time zones, Yuuri laughs, and something unwinds in Victor’s core. “Oh no. You sound just like my mama when you say it that way.”

“Of course I do. Who do you think I learned it from?” It makes his smile widen, hearing Yuuri’s happy voice again, though they haven’t been apart long at all. “Where are you now?”

“At the hotel.” Yuuri grunts, followed by a soft thump in the background. “I just got checked in and found my room. I’m dropping my bags off, then I’ll go get my credentials.”

“Did you sleep at all on the flight?” 

“A little,” Yuuri answers, in a tone that means _not at all_. 

"Yuuuuuuri! As your coach, I can't condone this! You need your sleep to do your best this week."

"I miss you." It's quiet, honest, a simple statement that jabs Victor right in the heart. 

"I miss you too," he admits. "I'll be there as soon as I can." He’ll have to. He won’t last long at all in these empty rooms.

"I know. I know." Yuuri sighs. "How soon is that again?"

Victor feels a big, sappy smile settle on his face. The line goes quiet, both of them taking a moment to simply exist together. The small sounds of Yuuri's breathing fill the air; the apartment feels warmer with Yuuri's presence in it.

There's another thump, a creak, and Victor recognizes the sound of Yuuri falling back onto the hotel bed. 

"It's too quiet in here," Yuuri says quickly, as if the words are spilling from his lips faster than he can reach them. "I know that's silly."

"It's not silly. I know exactly what you mean."

Yuuri doesn't respond with words, but Victor thinks he can feel him smiling through the line. 

A moment later, Yuuri yawns. "Ugh. I think my flight is catching up with me. I should go get checked in with the competition." 

But there's no creak of the bed again, no hint that he's getting up. His breathing evens across the continents as he drifts off, alone on his hotel bed. 

Smiling softly, Victor puts the phone on speaker and sets it on his chest, his own eyes closing at the familiar beat of Yuuri's sleeping breaths. One in Boston and the other in St. Petersburg, they nap side by side.


End file.
